a mother's and daughter's journey with transformation, cancer, death and LOVE

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There are three primary gifts that have helped me maintain a sense of peace and find joy in life, even with my beloved older daughter gone – the practice of staying in the present, made possible in part through The Work of Byron Katie; my deep faith in the divine and the consciousness that continues when we leave our bodies; and being in service to others with gratitude.

Staying Present

There were so many times during the two months when Elizabeth was in hospice, when my mind would go to “this shouldn’t be happening”… Yet she never did that. She didn’t try to be anywhere other than where she was. She was in a state of grace.

I, however, was not. I would notice that I wasn’t actually with her, even though she was still in front of me, because of what I was thinking. So as soon as I caught myself, The Work would go like this. I’d have this thought: “she shouldn’t be dying, she is only 22!” I’d ask myself “is that true?” and if I said yes, I’d then ask “can I absolutely know that is true?” And the answer was always no, I couldn’t know that she shouldn’t be dying. That would always begin to shift things…

There are more steps to The Work, (www.thework.com) but the practice is one of bringing myself back to the present, noticing that it’s only my story about the past or the future that is creating my suffering. When I am in the present moment, I am always ok. Maybe incredibly sad, maybe sobbing on the floor, but as the emotion moves through and I’m present with it, without a story, I can allow it to be fully expressed without judgment or holding back, and I am ok. I am at peace.

Faith and Divine Presence

I’m grateful that for years I’ve been using The Work for myself and my clients, as it helps immensely. I also have been a Reiki Master since 2001, and this channeling of healing energy, with my work as an intuitive guide has kept me in deep connection with the Divine presence. Using Reiki on myself and others helps me literally feel the Divine with me. It has also helped to soothe and quiet my mind and feel balanced and clear, physically, mentally and emotionally.

In my work I receive messages from those in spirit. These have been validated as accurate by their loved ones so many times that I trust they are real. It brings me great comfort to know that there is a consciousness, a soul that continues to exist when we leave our body. So after Elizabeth died, I was worried initially about her being happy, the same way I’d been all her life! I’ve since heard over and over from Elizabeth, including in several readings with mediums, that she is happy, that she is doing wonderful work where she is – more than she could have done while in her body, that she is exactly where she is supposed to be and where she wants to be.

I have many stories of Elizabeth showing herself to me when I’ve needed confirmation from her that she is around. One of the most remarkable was soon after she died, and I was missing her terribly. I was floating in the ocean, looking at the sky, which was filled with puffy round clouds. I asked her to show me that she was present and immediately the clouds shifted to form a huge letter E in the sky above me!

Another way she lets me feel her presence is through music. When I am alone in the mornings, especially in the months after she died, I play Pandora on shuffle, with about 20 stations selected. This means there are many thousands of possibilities of songs that could play. On mornings when I desperately wanted to know her spirit was close, I’d ask her to show herself. Each time I made this request, the next song that came on was one of a handful of songs that she and I both loved, that had particular meaning to both of us, and that did not play any other time than those times I asked. It brought me to my knees in tears each time – simply overwhelmed with emotion and in gratitude.

Service and Gratitude

The third aspect that I’ve found essential to having a life of peace and joy, is being in service and feeling gratitude. I was able to take time off work during the time Elizabeth was in hospice, and slowly started seeing clients again in the months following her death. I am so blessed that I love my work, and that it is nourishing to me, while I’m supporting others in their healing. I have always worked with people during times of great transformation, and now especially, those dealing with grief and loss of all kinds find their way to me.

I have found writing, this blog in particular, to be immensely helpful. It has served as a way of processing my experience and emotions and having a forum to share Elizabeth and her writing. It’s also connected me to an online community, through other bloggers and Facebook, that has brought so much support, love and nourishment. The more vulnerable and authentic I am, the more authentic the connections and friendships I have received. It has felt like an offering, something coming through me that serves me and hopefully many others.

I find that four and a half years later, I still need more time alone than ever before. I need time to just be, to meditate, to connect, to listen, to not answer to anyone…and I need to balance that with living a life of purpose, doing the work I came here to do. I feel Elizabeth with me, joining me in serving others, and I believe that living my life as fully and joyfully as possible is the best way I can honor Elizabeth’s life and death. I take care of myself in every way I know how, and remember how blessed I am. I do my best to focus on the gifts in my life – 22 years of having Elizabeth as my living daughter and the rest of my life with her as a spiritual companion; another amazing daughter, Julianna, now almost 24, very happily living and working in New York; a home on Maui and a thriving practice with clients all over the world; and a marriage to my partner of 15 years that supports me in so many ways.

This week, I am crying at every little thing. Even sitting down to write a blog post makes me teary, and there’s nothing I’m particularly sad about in this moment.

This week I am staying up late watching full seasons of shows I like, family dramas especially, and sobbing through them. So much emotion – from marriages, to deaths, to new babies…and of course the scenes with the mother and her 20-something daughter having her first baby just put me right over the top…

This week I just want to stay in bed all morning reading Facebook updates on my phone, laughing and crying at silly videos and other people’s lives.

This week I want to eat chocolate for breakfast. And lunch and dinner. (Though I did make a great lentil soup last night to supplement the chocolate.)

This week I am angry at Elizabeth for dying. I am still stunned. Shocked that she left. Shocked that this fierce, stubborn hard-headed young woman, stronger-willed than I her whole life, could be gone. Taken down by something that wasn’t supposed to kill her. All kinds of people survive cancer. How did she not?

This week I rediscover Elizabeth’s Tumbler “Freshly Shaved Legs”, and smile at her posts the last months of her life – about fashion, music, deep thoughts, love, worries about her phone not working and being out of communication (little did we know she’d be communicating in a whole new way so soon…). I forget how funny she was, in her sly, kittenish way. I admire her writing style, wish I could emulate her, and know that she is unique.

Elizabeth Blue, ~2010

This week I reread some of Rachel Remen’s book “Kitchen Table Wisdom”, which I loved when I read it years ago. One story is of a man who had survived cancer, and reading it this time, it seems she believes he survived only because he was able to move through and heal some deep emotional woundings. As Elizabeth’s mother, I feel responsible for ALL her emotional woundings (which I know intellectually isn’t true), and feel myself sink into self-blame.

This week I delight in the yard being cleaned and feeling brighter, more spacious, open; in adding a pump to my little pond so I hear running water from my bed when I wake up in the morning; in a basket full of oranges I picked from our backyard.

This week I cry tears of love and my heart opens as Zelie listens to her inner calling and attends a voice workshop for 10 days, being challenged and loved and supported in her soul’s work.

This week I listen to Julianna with pride and deep love as she prepares to graduate college and move out into the world at large, making her way with such grace, determination, focus and wisdom.

This week I despair at how little I’ve been writing, and feel my heart crack open when I discuss taking a writing workshop, and how I feel called to write a book about Elizabeth’s life and death and our journey together.

This week I feel the full-body Yes to this call, and know it’s not in my timing, any more than the timing of this post today, this week.